Ten, and counting
by tylee17
Summary: ABC? How about 123?... After all, words can only convey so much. So why not give those numbers a try?... Max-Alec... a little fluff, a bit of angst... and hey, it's an actual story by now, too...well, kinda...
1. One to Ten

_Admittedly, this is really weird. I mean: _really_… But, hey: so many folks are using those ABC-prompts, and I thought: why not give those sorely neglected _numbers_ a chance? (:_

* * *

**Ten, and counting…**

_(One)_

"Alec…"

_(Two)_

"Yeah, Max?"

_(Three)_

"I love you…"

_(Four)_

"Yeah, right—wait… _what_?!"

_(Five)_

"I love you, Alec. Alright?"

_(Six)_

"Why are you doing this, Max?"

(_Seven_)

"Doing what? What _am_ I doing, huh?"

(_Eight_)

"You… I cannot do this, okay? I can't…"

(_Nine_)

"You do not have to do anything. Let me…"

(_Ten_)

She takes his face in her hands and kisses him.

* * *

_This is just _one_ way of using those numbers… Anyone else wanna give it a try? (: _


	2. Eleven Seconds

_Another number, anyone? (:_

* * *

**Eleven seconds**

_(Eleven)_

Eleven seconds. That first kiss lasted exactly eleven seconds.

At first, Alec was too stunned to comprehend what was going on, but that moment didn't last longer than a split second.

And after that first touch of their lips? After that first moment in which—for the first time—he tasted her scent, breathed her breath, and couldn't yet imagine into what else that kiss could evolve?

His mind was racing, yet blank, he was hyper-alert, yet completely numbed. Her hands cupping his face, her nose touching his, the light flutter of her dark, full lashes… The soldier in him, trained to take in each and every detail—no matter the circumstances, did just that: he took it all in, assimilated everything like he would any other piece of crucial information…

… before he finally—following some unknown urge, feeling, instinct—reciprocated Max's tender kiss.

Eleven seconds.

He took a stunned step back to stare at her, as she began to inspect the ground underneath their feet in the hopes of finding an opening or a crack that might conveniently swallow her.

No opening. No crack.

Just a soft touch on her cheek, fingers tracing the curve of her lips… Max stared up again then, meeting Alec's gaze, and, shyly, they smiled at each other.

Eleven. Not one second longer.

But it was enough.

* * *

_I wish you guys all the best for 2009. (: I tried my best with the fluff here, I swear! (:_


	3. December

_... still counting here... (:_

* * *

**December**

_(Twelve)_

And after the kiss?

They tried to act casual about it, sure enough. Pretended their having kissed meant nothing and yet everything. Two emotionally uptight transgenic loners, posing to be anything but.

Although they were of course aware of people's looks in their direction.

Like they were aware of their own feelings.

And when there came the day—just like in the movies—when one thing did lead to the other, they finally kissed again. _This time, though, no one was counting the seconds…_

It was a cold December-night, and it had actually snowed.

It was so cold.

December, of course.

Alec didn't exactly like the last month of the year. He never had. Back when he was still a soldier—and was considered to be nothing else—it had meant evaluation of his performance. And that in turn…

…He didn't allow himself to follow that particular train of thought, though—he didn't allow himself to dwell on things that should better be forgotten...

It was just…—Alec didn't like December too much.

For all the obvious reasons—and for those that were not.

The cold, the evaluation procedure, the whole waiting for the outcome, being assigned to a mission that involved destroying a family by killing off the mom. Or dad. Or… Because as a transgenic you weren't supposed to feel anything special on those last days of the year, you were supposed to function.

Like on the rest of the twelve months of the year.

Killing someone on New Year's, noticing the excited glow of apprehension on their face, ready to step on, into a new year, with new chances, new choices. Ready to celebrate—and dead at the first sound of exploding fireworks. Never to know which path the year might've taken them.

But you functioned.

And why was it that Manticore always came up with so many stupid "reasons" for imprisoning, torturing, assassinating people each last month of every friggin' year? Had they tried to clean out their closet?! Must've been a big one. Roomy…

Never to know, though.

And that's December for you...

"Hey."

A single word directed at him jolted Alec out of his dark thoughts again. Max. She came up to him, like she had done that other time, a while ago; a time he wasn't too keen on remembering. When he'd been nursing a glass of Jack's here at Crash, just like now, and had stared into the depths of his glass, all broody and broken. He hadn't been too nice about it back then. Tonight, he mightn't be either.

"You okay?" She didn't exactly smile, but she had that kind, painful look of—understanding?—that always got to him. Always.

"Max," he said, his voice not much more than a whisper, his usual mask not in place, too exhausted was he to really care. Besides, she was Max, she'd seen him worse already. And really, he was okay with that.

"Just hate this month, you know?" he admitted quietly, glancing up into her face. "Probably just a case of the Christmas blues, missing the dear old _family_ or something" he joked halfheartedly and smiled crookedly.

"Yeah," Max said flatly, sparing him to have to explain his crappy mood. Instead, she simply sat down next to him, and, with a swift movement of her hand, ordered a drink for herself, brushing his arm ever so slightly as if by accident.

As if…

He smiled to himself, smiled as she looked at him.

"What?" she asked, slight confusion showing on her pretty face, giving way to that trademark pout of hers. "Alec?" Insecurity recognizable in her voice.

"Nothing," he denied, still smiling. He felt the warmth of her body close to his while he could still make out the noise of the cold storm that was raging outside. Inside, it was warm…

"It's just: this pout of yours... did it work with Logan?" he suddenly asked and smirked knowingly, earning him a slap to his head, and the familiar tag of "idiot," as the inches between them melted of their own accord.

"Bet it did…"

"Alec, what the hell?!" Max only huffed, though, suddenly grumpy, in expectation of another snarky remark which never came.

Eventually, both transgenics simply sat together in complete silence, arms touching casually, glasses getting emptied and not refilled. And after a while, with one slow turn of their heads, they faced each other again.

Their sudden shared seriousness no longer bothered them it seemed—or if it did, they had learned to deal with it in other ways than fleeing into meaningless banter and empty laughs.

They locked gazes for a minute, maybe longer, studied each other's faces. Until Max finally whispered, "December's not so bad, Alec. It really isn't. Not if your family's right here with you…" And suddenly, she looked shy and vulnerable again, and Alec knew he was one of only a few to ever see her like that.

And just like in the movies, he smiled at her then, gently ran a hand through her dark hair, pulled her closer still, and kissed her.

_This time, though, no one was counting the seconds their kiss lasted…_

… _yet everyone was watching…_

And eventually January came. And life went on. Just as it did every year.

And maybe, just maybe, December wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

_um, never mind... _

_I better warn you: I'm considering writing yet another one for this, (and it'll be a little heavier on the hurt/comfort side to boot...) anyways. thanks for reading (:_


	4. The List

_Not that I really know what I'm writing here… Well, yeah, like I usually do... Anyways, thanks all you guys for your attention—oh, and _poestheblackcat_: your turn now… (:_

* * *

**The list**

_(Thirteen)_

Not long after that fateful night at Crash, after a few days of playing an altogether different version of Escape and Evade, they suddenly found themselves in the awkward position of running into each other quite unplanned. Yet they didn't have much time to feel shy and embarrassed about it, for right then a sudden explosion of sound tore through them in such painful clarity that they had no doubt about what they had heard: a bomb going off, not far away from where they had been standing somewhere deep in Terminal City's middle. Somewhere where they had once felt remotely safe.

If ever they had felt safe anywhere in the first place…

It took just that one thing to make Alec fall. Just one thing, one explosion, one carefully placed bomb. The terrible tearing sound of concrete and steel bursting, breaking, collapsing, and all Alec could feel was a sudden pain in his side before the world went dark around him.

_Her pout_. That was the first thing he was able to remember in his clouded mind.

_The way she constantly saved his ass…and thus earned herself the right to kick him for it._

_Her beautiful lips_.

_The dark silk of her hair._

_The brown depths of her eyes_.

_The way the corners of her mouth curled involuntarily sometimes, halfway between a smile and a frown_.

_Her strength._

_Her blazing fire_.

_Her scent_, inconceivable and yet so clear that he always smelled her presence long before he actually saw her.

_Her tanned skin, smooth and perfect_. But he didn't care much for perfection. He rather liked that tender scar on her stomach, where she had been shot once, and where even her transgenic make up had refused to heal the wound over without leaving any trace. Those traces meant they had lived, after all, and had felt pain. They were a reminder that even they were real, were people, were not invincible.

_Those tiny wrinkles in the corners of her eyes_, not perceivable by ordinary human beings maybe, but Alec had counted them all. She liked to laugh, although she too seldomly did…

_The way she acted so selflessly toward her friends, toward Joshua, OC… Logan. And him. _A kindness, which she liked to veil with her bitchy behavior, for example when she allowed him to seek refuge behind stupid banter, knowing all too well how hard it was to live with what they had been put through…

There were surely more things on his list, but he was too tired to remember them all now. He was so tired.

"Alec. Hang in there, you hear?" _Her beautiful voice_… "Just stay with me… They'll get us out of here soon, okay? They'll be here any minute… Please…"

He noticed the trail of tears running down her flushed cheeks and frowned distractedly. Her tears, they were no part of his list.

"Please don't cry, Maxie, okay? Please don't…" he breathed, staring up into her wide eyes, refusing to feel comforted by the tenderness in her features.

One thing had made him fall. But off the top of his head he had been able to come up with at least thirteen aspects that would make him fight his hardest to get up again.

Thirteen.

And he had only just begun to count…

* * *

_Who knows what—if anything—will come next… maybe a longer chapter? Hmmmm… (:_


	5. Two Weeks Notice

_Yup. New chapter. New number. Apparently, I'm playing again. (:_

* * *

**Two weeks notice**

_(Fourteen)_

"Don't cry," Alec repeated frowning as Max averted her face to wipe away the tell-tale smudges staining her cheeks. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt? Max?"

Once she was sure she no longer looked a complete mess, she turned to him again and laughed incredulously. "Am _I_ okay?! Thought I'd lost you there for a moment," she informed him before adding a scolding, "Don't you ever do that again, you hear?"

But her hand gently cupping his cheek and her wide-eyed worried stare betrayed her harsh tone.

"Aw Max," Alec muttered and smirked, if a little weakly. The fact that he was still lying on what felt like a bed of rubble, half-covered with a heavy blanket of debris, didn't exactly help in making it any easier for him to convince himself—_and_ Max—that he was okay. But he simply couldn't move. Not yet. So he just remained lying there, feeling an odd tiredness tug at his consciousness, and it was so hard not to give in to that…

"You care for me…"

_So hard._

At hearing his words, Max instantly exclaimed, "Oh shut up! Course I do. Whaddya think? That you were just a random guy I kissed twice—_twice_—and then I simply went on to kiss the next one?!"

There. She had said it. Out loud. Her very own version of "I care for you." _Or maybe even…_ It was a good thing that Alec seemed to be too stunned to comment on her words, or was he drifting off into unconsciousness again? At that thought her fear spiked up again quite suddenly and made her gently place her hands around his neck, feeling for his pulse. A little too weak for her liking, but it was there. She couldn't help the urge to lean over him then, to close the gap between them until her hair fell down to his face, and her lips touched his forehead in a soft kiss.

Once she was sure she'd gotten his attention back, she straightened up a little and wordlessly tried to force him to lock gazes.

"Alec. Didn't I tell you not to do that again? Stay with me, okay?"

"Sorry, Max. Guess I'm a little… tired.—Help me get up, please?"

Max wasn't sure he really should get up, but the insistence in his stare made her comply anyway. If he wanted to get up, she would help him. He was X5, a trained soldier, and this wasn't exactly the first time he'd gotten injured on a mission. Therefore she was positive she could trust his own assessment of his state of health; he'd surely tell her if he was not in any condition to be moved. Besides, Alec didn't ask for help very often…

"Alright, soldier. Let's get you moved," she therefore said and started brushing off as much of the debris as possible, when Alec suddenly rushed matters and grabbing both her arms for support pulled himself up into a sitting position. An involuntary gasp escaped him then and he would have sunken down again if Max hadn't held on to him.

"Idiot. Can't you let me help you for once?" She huffed as she shifted his weight until he was leaning against her.

"But I did… you've already cleaned me up pretty much," Alec weakly answered, his attempted grin not quite surfacing.

"Seriously, Alec.—Take it easy, no one's hurrying us, alright? Maybe we should just wait for the rescue team, I'm pretty sure Mole—"

"No!" Alec called out. I'm fine. Just—give me a minute…"

And strangely, she did; without further discussion. She let him sit with his back against her and waited. Until one minute passed. Then another…

"Alec?—Alec…" And she got worried again.

With both arms wrapped around him she hadn't missed that he was having trouble breathing, and still she had hoped for the difficulties to subside eventually. Unfortunately, they hadn't yet done so.

"Alec. You okay?" She therefore asked again, unsure of what to do. Leave him and go to get help? Stay with him to make sure he would still be alive once someone got to them?

"Ow," she suddenly heard him say. Or breathe out, for his voice was barely audible by now. "Crap, Max. Why is it always me who gets hurt, eh?—God, I'm sorry, but… I don't really think I'll be going anywhere anytime soon, just let me—"

"Okay. Okay…" Max said, trying for a soothing tone, but who she was trying to calm like that—Alec or herself—she didn't know. "We'll just wait and—and—"

"Know what? I've had enough. No more getting shot at or kicked or… _bombed_ or… I resign, okay? From being an X5, from helping you lead those poor freaks in TC.—I'll give my two weeks notice—I—_crap this hurts_," he bit out and stared up into her face until a wave of pain made him clench his teeth and close his eyes to everything, even to her.

"Sorry, but I won't accept that. No resigning from _this_ job," Max told him lightly, in spite of what she had discovered now that she had patted him down and found the source of his distress, her fingers sticky with blood oozing out of his left side.

"You sure?" Alec mumbled on. "Coz I'm dead certain they'll get along better without me anyways.—'Dead certain,' now that's kinda fitting in a way…"

Appalled, Max tightened her hold on him yet again. "_Don't_ Alec. Don't say that. This is so not funny. Besides, I was made CO, remember? And as your CO I won't accept any two weeks notice you might ever give. Got that?" She wasn't sure whether she should be glad that he was no longer seeking her gaze, that he was staring on into nothingness instead, not able to see the fresh tears running down her cheeks unchecked. Or her desperation.

No, please. She couldn't lose another one.

"I'm sorry, Max. Guess I screwed it up…" Not words. Only movements of his lips.

"No, please. Alec. You have to fight, remember? Suck it up—"

"—Soldier. Right. Always the soldier, huh?"

"No! You're more than that, Alec. You're a person, a _friend_! There're people here who need you to fight this, okay? Okay?"

She was afraid to hurt him and yet she couldn't stop herself from pressing him ever closer to her chest. To her heart.

"People, huh?" He grinned. Oh, if only she knew how hard he had been fighting to get even this far…

"Um, yeah. People… —I._ I_ need you to fight, alright? _I_."

…

And then his gaze found hers again, all too suddenly, and she choked out an involuntary sob.

"Tears are not a part of my list, Maxie, remember?" Alec whispered, a frown deepening on his face, and his odd remark made Max feel the sudden urge to wipe away her tears.

"I'm sorry, I guess I forgot…"

"'S okay. Just—try to remember for the future, alright? And maybe allow me to at least resign from being everybody's punching bag?"

"Okay," she conceded smiling down at him, trying to keep her face from scrunching up, trying to hold the tears at bay.

And failing.

"Good.—And about that notice? Don't worry, I couldn't let you fight the bad guys on your own, now could I? Besides, I'd never willingly leave you, Maxie, I'd never…"

"I know…"

* * *

_Um, yeah. I'll see what I can do about one for 15, okay? (: So as not to leave it hanging there… Anyways, thanks for dropping by. (:_


	6. In a Quarter of an Hour

_I'm back. And I'm afraid that maybe you won't be particularly pleased about it…_

* * *

**In a quarter of an hour**

_(Fifteen)_

But when Mole's team finally got through to them—no more than fifteen minutes later—Alec had stopped breathing.

Fifteen minutes. And no one except Max and Alec would ever know what had happened in that one quarter of an hour. No one else knew…

How hard Alec had fought to stay conscious.

Whether he had _been_ conscious at all.

How ferociously Max had held on to him.

If she had implored him to "_fight_ this. You _promised_ you wouldn't leave me.—Who is to annoy me out of my mind if you're not around to do it, huh?"

Or if she had started crying and had pleaded, "Please don't die, Alec, _please_…"

How often Alec had apologized for making everything a complete mess again.

If he had tried to distract himself from the pain by asking who the hell had bombed Terminal City, and whether TC had sustained any casualties.

Whether she had responded, "_Hello_?!—Going by what _I_ see here I'd say there's at least _one_ casualty?"

If he had laughed involuntarily at that, then choked on the pain that the sudden movement had caused him.

How many silences Max had had to bridge with cajoling while Alec had drifted off only to come back to her instantly.

How severely he had cursed himself for being "weak."

Whether he had actually cursed out loud, only to be reprimanded by Max.

Or whether she had confirmed him, had forced him to do something about that pathetic weakness, and "Making more of an effort to stay conscious would be a good start?"

If it had been Max to say "I love you" first, or Alec.

Or if neither of them had said it, but they had read something in each other's eyes nevertheless and simply _known_…

So much could happen in a quarter of an hour, so much surely _had _happened… But once that time was over, once Mole stumbled through to the two X5s and yelled "They're here!" to his companions, Alec had stopped breathing.

Fifteen minutes—that was just too little time…

* * *

…_um, 16 anyone? the 16 most awful ways of how to kill Alec off for good?—oh, fear not, dear readers, there's also a chance for "16 ways to save him" (: _


	7. Breathing

… _okay, everyone: stop holding your breath—oh, and _Alec's Angel_: it's safe for you to read on now (: also, you're right of course—but hey, this story isn't finished yet… (:_

* * *

**Breathing**

_(Sixteen)_

"Max!" shouted Mole, who had taken it upon himself to lead the retrieval team, as he fell to his knees right next to her. But she didn't acknowledge his presence, too intently was she focusing on the task of forcing Alec back to life. She felt for his pulse, lowered his slack body to the ground, adjusting the position by tilting Alec's head, lifting his chin. Bending down until her lips touched his she breathed air into his lungs.

_(One)_

She breathed for him.

_(Two)_

"Anything I can do? Max?" Mole asked once her gaze met his, her fingers busy checking the fallen soldier's body for signs of circulation.

She didn't have to say anything, though, for already Mole had barked out a command to one of the soldiers in his team. "Swift! Go get the doc here ASAP!"

Seeing Max place her hands on Princess's chest he batted them away, replaced them with his own until they were positioned correctly.

_Follow one of the bottom ribs to the place where it meets the sternum—place one finger there, the index finger right above it—place the heel of the other hand on the sternum and move it down until it reaches the index finger…_

It didn't take him more than a split second to find the spot, something he might actually call one of the perks of having undergone Manticore-training for a lifetime. Every transgenic knew how to give CPR after all, like it were ingrained in their messy DNA as well.

"Make that _yesterday_, Swift!" he called after the man, already having started with the compressions by then.

Fifteen compressions, and Mole noticed Max counting them down, her hands never breaking contact with Alec's prone body. At thirteen she bent down again, at fourteen her lips nearly touched the other one's again, and at fifteen…

… Mole leaned a little away, and Max breathed.

_(Three)_

"Come on, Princess!"

_(Four)_

He saw the fierce determination in his CO's features and couldn't help but think that Princess better not die if they were to ever see the end of it. Max didn't say anything, not one word. But her lips were moving now, forming figures, counting down. Just like before.

And then: breathing, passing air on into Alec's mouth.

_(Five)_

Alec, who, like always, was too stubborn to do anything the easy way—and just start breathing already.

_(Six)_

Straightening his arms once more Mole pressed down on the kid's breastbone, watching for Max's lips to indicate the end of yet another round of CPR. Watching her lean over and breathe.

_(Seven)_

He noticed the blood staining his hands, but decided to ignore it for the moment.

_(Eight)_

His arms, though strong, were starting to feel a little tired. "Seriously, Alec. Stop acting like the princess you are! _Come_. _On_."

Max stared at him, wide eyed, then…

_(Nine)_

And what the hell took Swift and the doc so long? Wasn't the guy called Swift for a reason?

_(Ten)_

"I tell you one thing, Princess, no way I'm doing this forever, understood? So you better stop acting up already!" he bit out, forcing himself not to increase the pressure in his growing anger. And why was he so angry? And at who? At Alec? For making Mole exert himself in his effort to save the idiot? Or maybe at himself? For caring enough to be afraid the kid mightn't make it…

_(Eleven)_

Somewhere a radio crackled to life.

_(Twelve)_

"Please…" Max whispered, the word yet another breath, the air escaping her mouth unshared. Though Mole had heard the silent plea all too clearly. TC's usually intrepid leader had started to beg…

His arms felt so lame…

_(Thirteen)_

_(Fourteen)_

Max pressed her forehead against Alec's, imploring him with silent words. No more counting down compressions while Mole was ordering his arm muscles to comply when "Fifteen!" he finally gritted out and…

_(Fifteen)_

Max breathed again.

And wait! Didn't Mole just feel something underneath his hand? Underneath the hand he held still lightly placed on the kid's chest? A tiny flutter? A beat…

"Sir! I have the doc here! Sir, the doc's here now, Sir!"

The tinge of blue slowly leaving Alec's lips, his face.

And Alec opened his eyes…

_(Sixteen)_

… to Max's kiss of life. To her smile, her relief, to someone pushing her aside and shining a light into his eyes, to hands patting him down, touching the spot of pain, talking to him, to Max being raised up off the ground by Mole—and when the hell had _he_ arrived here?—to sounds of commotion, to Mole's "Just you hang in there now, Princess!"

Until all he saw were Maxie's eyes…

He didn't know it then, that she had breathed for him. He didn't know anything other than that she was there and that as long as she was he would be alright.

She had breathed for him sixteen times, had shared her air with him, her life. And if she had had to do it forever, she would have done that, too.

* * *

_sheesh, now if that ain't a little sappy… *blushes with embarrassment*—_told_ you I'm no good at writing fluff… in my defense, though: at least for once I didn't keep you waiting for too long… (:_


	8. Four plus Nine plus Four

_Phew, lucky me Max and Mole did their best to save Alec, huh? (: But on we go…_

* * *

**Four plus Nine plus Four**

_(Seventeen)_

Exhaustion was showing on their faces afterward. On Mole's, on Max's. On Alec's. Obviously near-death experiences did take their toll as well. But Max didn't care. As long as Alec was still alive, he could look and feel as exhausted as after an extended stay in hell. Honestly, he could look like death warmed over for all she cared.

She only wanted him to keep his eyes open and _breathe_. That wasn't too much to ask for, now was it?

"Hey, Max… what designation do you think they'd have given our kid—if ever, you know…"

Well, so maybe it was. Too much to ask for…

"What?!" Max exclaimed and stared at him incredulously, wondering where the hell that had just come from.

"Breeding program?" Alec prompted, and his voice remained even as if potential children were the most natural topic of conversation someone in their position could come up with. His gaze was focused on her face now while she was lowering herself to the ground again so as to kneel down beside him and take his clammy hand in hers.

"Alec, will you listen to me for once—please?—and not talk so much? Okay? Just you keep breathing now, alright, and let the doc do his work," she implored him and sighed.

It was nothing but a futile attempt, though. And of course. Alec never heeded anyone's words after all, especially not hers. She turned her head to exchange a glance with Mole, who stood towering over them and the doc. Radio in hand, he was waiting for reports coming in from all over TC, supervising not just this one rescue mission but surely various others simultaneously—or so Max guessed anyway. Thus far, she hadn't really had a minute's time to talk things over with the tall transhuman as it happened. Too busy had they been saving Alec's life.

But she needed to know what exactly had happened out there; she needed to know whether it had really been a bomb that had nearly destroyed—

She was the CO. She _cared_ for the people, she was _worried_ for them. She _needed_ to _know_. And yet all she felt up to doing at that very moment was sit there, hold Alec's hand, watch him breathe, and warily observe the doctor's every movement.

So apparently, Mole would have to remain the one in charge for yet a little while longer…

"Couldn't have used test tube designations—not after that havoc you wreaked with their labs—could they?" Alec suddenly went on, completely ignoring her plea for silence. At least he did endure the doctor's examination without complaint.

"So… 946 then maybe?" he suggested, smirking weakly.

She couldn't help her frown deepening at his seeming lightness, couldn't help sounding annoyed when she said, "Alec, what the hell…"

"Ya know: mine and your designations combined? 452 plus 494. No?—28 then?"

Max huffed, disbelief evident in her features as she stared down at him, her fingers tightening around his hand. How could this guy have nearly died not five minutes ago and be talking nonsense again already? _Already_.

"Don't frown so much, Max, come on… Scares the patient, alright? And you don't wanna scare the patient… didn't the real world teach you any bedside manners?—Never make the patient feel even more uncomfortable. Alright?"

"You're not a patient, Alec. You're—"

He grinned. "Yeah, right. I'm peachy. Just like always. Just like _you_ always are, huh, Max? Like you want us to be…"

Max wasn't sure what it was—some odd note in his voice, an unnerving undertone maybe—but it did make her skin crawl uncomfortably all of a sudden and forced her to change the topic again, forced her to eventually play along with him. So she asked, "28? Now what would be the significance of the 28 of all numbers, anyway?"

Again that smile, weak, yet persistent. "You're not good at this, you know that?—Math. Additions…"

She pouted, her annoyance getting the better of her even now. But if _he_ could still talk crap under the circumstances, _she_ could just as well be annoyed at him for it, right?

Somewhere behind her she heard Mole's radio jump to life, heard a disembodied crackling voice yell something, incomprehensible. Or maybe not so incomprehensible at all…

"Four plus five is?"

His words distracted her yet again, and sighing heavily, she once more decided to humor him, for his sake as well as for her own. And wasn't this what she had actually silently prayed for mere moments ago?

"_Nine_.—And now could you please concentrate back on staying alive? And _not_ on math?!"

"Add another two to that."

"Ugh, Alec.—Okay, fine: eleven. _So_?!"

"See? Eleven. That's basically short for 452, Max. Short for _you_."

She stared at him then, dumbfounded, and was quite a little put off guard as he smiled at her with generous indulgence. "Right…" she muttered, rolling her eyes. She shot the doc a glance and quietly asked, indicating Alec, "Delirious?"

"Pretty much, yes. A reaction to the blood loss, probably. I'm already treating him for shock as it is."

She nodded in understanding, Alec's behavior finally making a lot more sense, and her face froze in an unconscious half-smile as she listened to him explain,

"And I, I'd translate to seventeen—four plus nine plus four, get it? Now add eleven to seventeen and you get—"

"28." And Max's face split into a somewhat painfully heartfelt smile at the thought. Eleven and seventeen…

"So? Whaddya think, which designation would they have chosen?"

"Neither, Alec. No designation. Our child would always only have had a _name_. It _will_…" she whispered, her hair softly caressing his face as she lowered her head to place a light kiss on his forehead.

"Yeah?" So uncertain and hopeful.

"Yes, Alec. No more designations…"

"No.—I could still start calling you Eleven, though…" he mumbled, straining himself to stay conscious, locking his tired eyes on hers—in desperation? Fear? "Eleven…"

"If you want me to kick your ass big time just do that! _Seventeen_," she whispered, too exhausted, really, to even pretend to be pissed off. Too exhausted, and too scared.

"Alec…" the word just another movement of her lips, no sound escaping her as she bent down to kiss him yet again while more debris rained down on them from up above . "Alec?"

* * *

_uh huh. weird, that's me. (: _


	9. Steps

_Aw, did you really think I'd be _that_ mean? Well, I'm not. (still save for you to read_ Alec's Angel_…) (:_

* * *

**Steps**

_(Eighteen)_

He felt her hands on his face, cold and dry, heard the question in her voice as she called his name, so he forced his annoyingly sluggish tongue to work. "Just resting my eyes, 'kay? Give me a minute…"

He heard her draw in a curiously deep breath and for one short moment he thought she'd take her hands off of him now. He had done his best to show her he was still with her after all, still conscious. But she didn't move, and the cold spreading from her fingers felt oddly warm and comforting. He was on the verge of drifting off again, reassured by knowing Max was there, when suddenly she shouted way too loudly, "Resting your eyes?! Are you kidding me? You—crap, Alec, you nearly died on me here! No way I'm allowing you to close your eyes! Not for any longer than it takes for you to blink!—Not until we've carted you off to sick bay and—"

Time for him to stop her, he thought. She'd only be mad at him later if he didn't, mad at him for somehow making her feel embarrassed about herself. And he didn't need her to be mad at him. Not right now. Not when he…

… not when he was only still breathing because of her…

… not when…

He forced himself to focus back on preventing Max from saying things she might later regret. But he hadn't even come up with more than a way too weak sounding "Okay, I get it" when the doc proclaimed, "Alright. I managed to stabilize him."

At hearing that, Alec finally forced his eyes open to see the man nod at Max as he went on to say, "I think we're ready to move him. Mole? We could use some help. I don't think we can carry him out, not with all the wreckage down here… so, unfortunately, we gotta make him walk part of the way, at least until we're past that obstruction in the hallway. No way we'd fit through there carrying him…"

"Excuse me? '_He'_ is present, okay? And had enough of that talking over his head to last him a lifetime," Alec said and tried to sit up to give his words more emphasis. He didn't get far with it, though, for almost instantly Max placed both her hands on his chest to hold him down. He could make out some concern behind her scowl and couldn't help but smile.

"Alec!" There was that edge in her voice again, like he'd offended her. It always made him grin even cockier, made him fall straight back into old habits, old defense mechanisms…

"Alright!" Mole spoke over Max, throwing her a glance. He didn't sound all too happy but came to sit on his haunches right beside Alec anyway. "Let's get you moved, then, Princess. And don't make yourself any heavier than you already are."

Alec wasn't quite sure whether he liked what he was hearing, the plans to move him, all that. But then, the part about _"don't think we can carry him…"_ Well, that at least sounded relieving, because—honestly—being carried? By Mole, and Max? Nope. Thank you very much, but Alec could definitely do without that experience.

Not much time to ponder that thought, though, for right then strong arms were hoisting him up and a voice reached him through the renewed haze of half-consciousness as his body fought against a wave of dizziness and nausea,

"Okay. I got you. I got you—I got you."

Max. She was clinging to Alec—or maybe he was clinging to her, he couldn't be sure. Although… It was more likely that she was holding _him_ up, supporting him, because he couldn't help noticing that unfortunately his stubborn feet were refusing to do their job unaided.

"Easy now, Alec, let's take it nice and slow, alright?" It sounded like a suggestion, but of course he knew it was no such thing. Max didn't do suggestions. Not with him anyways. No. She ordered him around. Yep,

"'s what you do…"

"Excuse me?" she queried, but didn't get an answer out of him. His head was resting heavily against her shoulder, and—her arm slung around his waist—she only managed to hold him up in a standing position because on Alec's other side Mole was doing his bit to help her.

"Alright, Princess. You'll have to help us a little now, you understand?" the transhuman explained rationally, addressing the half-conscious X5 in an uncharacteristically gentle tone. Max couldn't help but stare and frown at him for that.

"What?" he mouthed before returning his concentration back on Alec. "The hallways are blocked. Too much debris, that bomb did a pretty good job destroying the whole building. So you'll have to walk if we are to get you out of this, alright? We'll assist you, but you'll have to help us out here, too. Max is going to accompany you. So am I. If you need to rest, rest. _Don't_ play the hero. Got that? Alec."

Got that? Alec wasn't sure. Walking out of this. Check. With Max by his side. Check. And Mole. Check. Rest if he needed to rest. Well… no complaining there. Although… what if he could use some rest now already?

"Let's go," Max said. He smiled weakly, couldn't even quite look at her. He felt that darn doctor somewhere close by his side, felt Max's arm around him, his own arm heavy on her shoulder, and on Mole's…

And when had walking ever been this exhausting?

Just one step after the other, he told himself, and took the first.

"You're doing great," Max breathed. It felt weird to hear her encourage him like that—and he had only taken one darn step forward on their way out of this ruin by then.

He tried to distract himself from what they were doing, tried to deflect the attention from his helpless state by asking, "So, what exactly happened, huh? Somebody really bomb us?"

"Looks like it, yeah. We're not sure yet who started it, though. Could be anybody. Government, military. White."

Both Max and Alec snorted humorlessly at that last possibility.

Only very slowly were they progressing forward, having to avoid rubble on the ground, caved in ceilings coming down from above; having to duck here, flatten themselves against the walls there, and Alec was beginning to feel slightly desperate to get out of this and be able to simply lie down again. But giving up, allowing his body to follow gravity to the ground was not an option, yet. He owed Max this. He owed her to fight. And besides, what was this compared with Psy-Ops, Reindoctrination, or simply good old Manticore everyday life?

"Anybody tried estimating the damage yet? Do we know if we lost anyone?"

Alec felt what little strength he still had leave him, felt unconsciousness blur the edges of his vision, and tightened his grip on the other two. "Guys…" he mumbled, realizing they hadn't heard him once Mole explained,

"We're at it, Max. Death toll's constantly rising. So far 15 people have been reported dead, all deaths confirmed already. But the number of wounded is way higher—don't ask me how high exactly. The damage is tremendous, especially in this part of the city. You guys have been damn lucky you were in the cellar when that bomb was dropped. It was basically dropped right on top of you, Max… What were you doing down here, anyway, huh?"

Max was about to say something, to explain herself, when suddenly she felt Alec's muscles slacken and signed for Mole to stop.

"Alec? You alright? Wanna rest?"

"Yeah?" So uncertain… about everything.

The doc appeared in front of him, checked his pupils, put a hand on his forehead, and nodded to himself. "We better hurry. No laying him down. We need to avoid unnecessary jostling," he then informed the others just as Alec was beginning to slump further into the embrace of his friends.

"No, Alec. Come on. We're nearly out of this. Only a little to go from here…"

"Let me just sit down first. Max? Just for a minute?…"

He didn't see her bite down on her lip in desperate concern, didn't see her exchange glances with Mole, then the doc. He didn't notice her silent plea with the latter, and didn't see the man shake his head.

"Better not…"

But he heard her sigh. And whisper, "Just another few steps first, okay Alec?"

"You're so demanding, you know that? Can't you cut a guy some slack? Just this once?"

"A: no, and B: you're not just '_a_ guy.'—Well, too bad for you. I'm very sorry. Now please… We've nearly made it. A few more feet to go…"

"Max…"

"Twenty steps, okay? Promise me you'll at least take twenty more and I'll give you all the time in the world to lie down and rest afterward…"

He sighed halfheartedly and managed to lift his head a little and slightly back away from her so as to look her in the eyes. "Fine," he finally grumbled, unaware of how much of his weight Mole was supporting by then as unconsciously he leaned ever further into the transhuman.

Twenty steps. He could do that… he _could_…

He counted them down, tried to make his strides as long as possible—and grinned widely once they finally got out of the half collapsed corridor.

It had taken him only eighteen. Steps…

And with the remaining two? He stepped right in front of her, leaned his forehead against hers, and whispered,

"You gonna lie down with me now?"

* * *

_Don't worry, the end is somewhat drawing nearer… yes, and I did notice that today is February 18… (: anyway, thanks again for reading, everyone!_


	10. Bantering

_Please excuse the title…_ _Revision: please excuse the whole chapter…_ (:

* * *

**Bantering **(or: Rule No. 19 in the unofficial Max-and-Alec-Rulebook: Do not—under any circumstances—stop bantering / 19 a: even if you don't feel up to it / 19 b: _especially_ then…)

_(Nineteen)_

"**N**o," Max said, her voice rising a little with incredulity as she playfully slapped Alec's head.

"**I** don't think you should slap me, Max, I mean—hello?!—hurt guy here?" rasped Alec and stared at her accusingly.

"**N**ah, that's just a sorry excuse for you, for making my life harder… just as usual," she replied, smiling fondly, though, while gently lowering him to the ground.

"**E**ver thought of the possibility that maybe my life's not solely revolving around annoying the hell outta you?" he smirked, but Max could tell that their bantering was slowly starting to exhaust him even further.

"**T**hought about it, yeah—but," she paused shortly, trying to come up with something to shut him up, although she already knew she'd fail anyway, "found it to be unconvincing…"

"_**E**__xcuse __me?!"_ he blurted, and raising himself up a little yet again, he made to add something more, when a sudden coughing fit stopped him pretty effectively, making both him and Max cringe.

"**E**nough, Alec, _please_—if I promise to shut up and not call you an idiot again—although you so _are_ an idiot for doing this to yourself!—will you finally shut the hell up, too, and _rest_?" she couldn't help but plead and frowned when she saw him already opening his mouth for yet another retort; but suddenly it was Mole whose annoyed grumble she heard before Alec even had a chance to say anything else.

"**N**ot that I'd want to interrupt you two lovebirds, but Josh will be here with a truck anytime now to get Princess to the infirmary; so, Max, time for us to check how the rest of us are doing…" he said and looked from Alec to his CO, and—sighing—he added, though solely for Max's sake of course, "He'll be fine…"

* * *

_Yeah, well… sorry about that? (: _


	11. Twenty Years

_Thank you guys, for yor patience with my little *comic relief* interlude (: so here's the next number, chapter, whatever… (:_

* * *

**Twenty Years**

_(Twenty)_

_He'll be fine… _The words echoing on in her head, Max uncertainly looked at Mole, then back at Alec, and sighed, too quietly for either of them to hear her. But that frown creasing her features—she had no strength to will that away. Not when she had to leave Alec behind in order to attend to the current crisis. Not when—this time—he hadn't just gotten one simple shot to the shoulder…

"Mole's right, Max. I'm fine, okay? And I'm definitely old enough to be left alone for a couple minutes. Alright? Come on, you gotta go. And I'll tell the big guy his li'l fella said hi…"

Max cast a doubtful glance at him, and snorted. He was doing it again, that pretending thing… Typical.

But despite herself she nodded. With quite an abrupt movement—as if to _trick_ herself into leaving him—she then rose off the ground and walked over to where Mole was waiting, chewing on his cigar. Already, the doc and the others had left, had gone on to find others who needed their help. So it was only them now. Mole, Alec, and Max.

Not wanting to glare at either, she glared at the gray sky instead, glared, and cursed under her breath. Inaudible words of anger, directed at who?

She had to go, Mole _was_ right. Well, she didn't really get asked, right? Of course not. She was Terminal City's CO after all, if she wanted to be or not, and that meant she had to see the big picture here and focus on that. She _had_ to.

There was not just Alec…

And besides, she wanted to know how the others were doing; she wanted to know what exactly had happened. She wanted to contact the government, Clemente, and whoever the hell else, because they needed to make this _stop_. She needed to make them stop this attack, for no one—not even _transgenics_—could withstand those bombs, could fight against the inhuman force of their blasts.

Still… it was so damn hard to leave Alec behind; and why? Hadn't she only known him for a short time? Hadn't she lived twenty years of her life without even knowing he existed? Somewhere, deep in Manticore's dark heart? Didn't those two decades without him outweigh a few months spent in his presence, his company? Didn't they mean anything?

Twenty years?

Without a guy who constantly managed to screw up in one way or the other? A guy who could annoy the hell out of her simply by talking? Continually? Who nagged her and bugged her, and made her life harder because he never left her be, because he was always—_always_—there?

A guy—the _one_ guy—who really managed to make Max angry at herself…

…just because when he wasn't around she missed him…

_Twenty. It was just a number like any other. Just a number, really…_

Max allowed her gaze to wander, if only for a moment, allowed it to wander over the devastated looking landscape around her, and sighed.

So maybe it _was_—merely a number, insignificant in and of itself. But hadn't she spent most of those twenty years either _in_ Manticore, or _fighting_ Manticore, or _saving_, _protecting_ Manticore's creatures? All of them?

"Go Max, I swear I'll not play hide and seek with Josh this time, okay?—He wins all the time anyways. Stupid dog nose of his…" Alec smirked. A reassuring sight, even though she could already tell he was too exhausted to keep up that "not a care in the world" expression for much longer. It made her smile nonetheless.

He was still doing it, still pretending he was okay. For her sake. Because he knew how hard it was for her to leave someone behind, how hard it had always been.

He knew.

"Aw, Alec, maybe it's not his nose but the fact that you simply suck at hiding?" she retorted, forcing her voice to sound light, forcing herself to shake off her fear.

"Hey..." His protest sounded so worryingly weak that out of the corner of her eye Max noticed Mole shoot her a furtive glance. And she didn't dare look back at her transhuman friend in answer.

She wanted to say something to Alec, she honestly did. She wanted to make some snarky comment, something he surely needed to hear right now. But all she could do was ball her hands into tight fists and, with her jaw set, stare ahead, readying herself for finally turning away.

"Don't even start, Princess," she suddenly heard Mole grumble out past his cigar and looked at him strangely gratefully. "You're always hiding in the sewers, dude, always. Even someone not able to smell _at all_ would figure that out pretty soon. So—shut up already… and just. Wait. Here."

With that said, Mole turned to face Max and motioned for her to go, not even sparing Alec another glance. She knew why…

… and so she turned around as well, closed her eyes briefly, forced herself to focus, and drew a breath so deep that it felt like her lungs might explode; all that so as to stop the worry from immobilizing her completely. Because what had worked in the past sure had to work now as well.

Right?

She needn't have worried so much about leaving Alec alone, though. She shouldn't have. No need, really, for right when she had begun to lead the way, had taken just a few steps away from both Alec and Mole, she saw an object being dumped on the city, saw it with her enhanced sight, and knew it was a missile. Another one… Frozen, she stood, called out to Mole—told him to protect Alec, save him. By all means, protect him, because he couldn't do so himself right now. Because he had fought so hard to live up to this moment that he simply wasn't _allowed_ to go now, to leave, to fall victim to this bomb…

She nearly laughed out loud when suddenly her Manticore "education" kicked in and made her estimate the missile's trajectory. She nearly laughed…

It was not headed to where Mole was trying to pull a frantically fighting Alec out of harm's way. It was not headed there at all, and Alec—who was desperately calling her name, shouting at her—had already known that way before her.

Manticore "education" all right. She might have learned to fight just as good as any other transgenic who had spent more years caged in Manticore, just as good as Alec, but this? Bombs, trajectories?

She'd laugh now, she really would.

If it weren't for the fact that—with an odd clarity—she saw tears shining in Alec's eyes, saw him fight Mole, fight him without regard to his injury.

And she _couldn't_ laugh at seeing _that_…

… because that bomb was coming _her_ way, and she had waited so long—a second, maybe three—but long enough, anyway, to know it was too late now to run. Too late. She heard the air whir in her ears, or was it the missile? She heard it.

She _felt_ it.

And at the very instant the bomb exploded… at the very instant that bomb exploded…

* * *

_uh huh. I'm a truly mean person. oh. didn't you know that? Well, I'm _so_ sorry… (:_


	12. Twenty and One: A Loop

_Last one, everyone! *sigh* ...oh, and_ Alec's Angel_,_ _what you said about Max: absolutely right! (:_**

* * *

**

**Twenty and one: a loop**

_(Twenty-one / Zero)_

… And at the very instant that bomb exploded Max exhaled with one last regretful sigh and suddenly knew all too clearly what she'd have done differently if ever she had gotten the chance.

Blinking rapidly, or perhaps even staring ahead out of unmoving eyes, she stared at Mole, at Alec—who seemed to be frantic and crying and choking on pain—until she saw nothing at all, or maybe everything.

No time for pain, though her body was being torn to pieces; and no time for her to find out who was responsible for all this, who was trying to kill them. Too late now.

No time…

… for nothing…

Not anymore. That bomb? Meaningless. The entire attack on Terminal City? Irrelevant. Nothing meant anything any longer.

The world? On hold, frozen around her, and yet moving, always moving… dragging her along.

She would sigh, but there was no air left for her to breathe, or maybe her lungs were merely refusing to work. Either way, her body was starved for oxygen, and yet she didn't mind, couldn't be bothered.

If only she got another—a second—chance, she'd take it. She'd fight. She wouldn't wait and let that one go to waste unused as well. Not this time.

_This_ _time_, she'd know what to do differently, what to change. She'd simply know…

Suddenly Max was aware of things floating in the air, floating around her, beside her, arrested in mid-air—like she was, too. As if time was standing still…

And Max was floating.

She _is_ floating; and there's no pain, no regrets, no worries, only that knowledge. That she needs to _tell_ him, she needs him to _know_…

If ever she gets that chance…

And once she does, once she _really_, _finally_ does, she breathes,

"Alec…"

And Alec? His voice sounding oddly broken and yet hopeful, Alec quietly responds,

"Yeah, Max?"

"I love you…"

"Yeah, right—wait… _what_?!"

"I love you, Alec. Alright?"

"Why are you doing this, Max?"

"Doing what? What _am_ I doing, huh?"

"You… I cannot do this, okay? I can't…"

"You do not have to do anything. Let me…"

She takes his face in her hands and kisses him…

_...only to feel him tenderly kiss her back, so achingly carefully…_

* * *

_"This story's over, it goes on and on until we disappear…" (_Brand New_. "Play Crack the Sky")... thanks for playing with me! (:_


End file.
